


This Is Not A Story

by Urbenmyth



Series: Tales Beyond The Archives [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: But not really in any major roles, Depression, Martin Blackwood - Freeform, Peter lukas - Freeform, The crushing weight of reality, if you like martin and peter you should probably go for a different fic, just me being sad tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urbenmyth/pseuds/Urbenmyth
Summary: A story requires two people after all. A teller and an audience.But this is the Lonely, and there is no-one here to listen.
Series: Tales Beyond The Archives [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965088
Kudos: 18





	This Is Not A Story

After a long day, with people you do not care about even as work friends, you finally return to your house.

You sit alone in the silent house, your work clothes still on. You live alone. You have always lived alone, even when there was someone in the house. And now there is no-one. After a few minutes, or maybe hours, you decide to take the rubbish out. You hope being productive will push your brain into feeling something. That's the plan. It does not succeed.

In some stories, here you would see the streets are unnaturally deserted, or that the distance fades into ghostly mist. You would look around, and find yourself in a strange empty world. Fallen from reality, to wonder the forsaken half of the universe.

Not here. Outside, there are people you don’t know, and the world looks normal. You simply take out the trash and step back into your empty house.

You sit among the mess. You watch a video. In the pre-recorded words of someone you have never met, you try to mimic a friendship. It does not succeed, although you tell yourself it does. You almost believe it.

You switch off your false friend, and you stare into space. You don’t know how long for.

In some stories, now fog would pour in through the windows, or the outside would vanish into smoke. You would find the emptiness pouring in and taking you away. The cold inside you would be outside you, and the world would fade.

This does not happen. You house looks normal. You simply sit there until hunger finally breaks through your numbness.

You make your ready meal for one and sit alone in a dark room, not bothering to turn on the lights. You barely bother to eat.

In some stories, here you would meet a cruel sailor with a false smile and hollow eyes. Or an empty young man, with once-blue eyes and an ice-cold cup of tea. And they would drag you away.

But no-one appears. You are still alone. You are always alone.

You go to bed, and you weep yourself to sleep. Like you do every night.

And in this story, there are not even monsters to keep you company.


End file.
